


Sea to Shining Sea

by RubyCaspar



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Flashfic challenge, angsty, better late than never, starts off during season 3, with a bit of fluff at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 17:25:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14898846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyCaspar/pseuds/RubyCaspar
Summary: On the evening of Arthur's funeral, Phryne tells Jack about their childhood plans that never came to fruition.





	Sea to Shining Sea

**Author's Note:**

> So most of this was written during the two-hour window for the flash fic second heat on 2nd June, but it ended up too long to get done in that time. However I've left it fairly unedited so it's probably quite rough and ready still. 
> 
>  
> 
> [Prompts: Rene, America, setting: Arthur’s funeral]

 

 

There was a chill in the air - Phryne had been shivering all day. She pulled her furs closer about herself and leant back against her car door, staring at the bungalow in front of her. There wasn’t much light left, so the details were difficult to make out, but the garden was neat and full of flowers, a bike was chained up at the side of the house, and warm orange light was filtering out through the curtains. 

 

She wasn’t sure what had brought her here exactly. It hadn’t been too late when they’d got home, and Mr Butler had prepared a light supper, but Phryne hadn’t been able to taste anything. They’d put on the radio but she’d been unable to really hear anything. She hadn’t been able to bear the thought of putting on a brave face for her well-meaning household and had decided on an early night, but she’d no sooner closed her bedroom door than she’d realised she didn’t want to be alone. 

 

She’d hurried out of the house and into her car and started driving, with vague notions of going dancing or to listen to live music, but instead she’d ended up here. 

 

A shadow passed behind one of the curtains. Phryne pushed off of the car and walked briskly up the garden path, knocking on the door before she could second-guess herself. This close to the house she could hear the soft strains of piano music, and it felt warmer too. She shifted closer to the door, but quickly stepped back as she heard footsteps approaching inside. 

 

The door was flung open and Phryne felt the heat and light of the house’s interior wash over her; she closed her eyes briefly, and opened them at once to focus on the man in front of her. Jack was down to his shirtsleeves, his tie and suit jacket discarded somewhere, his top button undone and his hair just a little bit messy. 

 

He looked stunned to see her on his doorstep. “Miss Fisher!”

 

Any other day, Phryne would have had a flirty quip at the ready, but as it was all she could manage was a tremulous smile. “Hello Jack,” she said softly. “Please forgive the surprise.” 

 

“Of course, I - come in,” he said, stepping back and opening the door wider, revealing a narrow hallway. Phryne stepped inside, taking in the small table bearing keys and letters, and the small coststand. Jack closed the door, and Phryne turned to face him. 

 

“Are you alright?” He asked her, frowning. 

 

“Yes,” Phryne said automatically, before sighing. “Well-”

 

“Oh,” Jack said suddenly, the frown clearing. “Today was the funeral, wasn’t it?”

 

Phryne swallowed, and then nodded. “I’m sorry, I don’t even really know why I’m here…” 

 

Jack took a step towards her, but then seemed to hesitate. “Phryne…” He hesitated again, and then held out his arms. 

 

Phryne felt the sob she’d been choking down the entire day well up in the back of her throat. She wasn’t aware of moving, but before she knew it she was pressing her face into Jack’s shoulder, and his arms were wrapped around her back, holding her close. 

 

Phryne wrapped her own arms around Jack and let herself cry, properly cry, for the first time in four days. From the moment she’d heard the news, she’d been holding herself together for Aunt Prudence, sweet Aunt Prudence who was so devastated and felt so alone. She had thrown herself into arrangements for the funeral, and hosting visitors who came to pay their respects, and hadn’t given herself the time to feel her own grief. 

 

She felt it now. 

 

Phryne wasn’t sure how long she cried, but Jack didn’t lessen his hold on her for one moment. He didn’t say anything, no empty words of comfort, he just held her, letting her tears soak into his shirt and his warmth soak into her chilled body. Eventually, the tears dried up, but Jack didn’t move until Phryne did, and then he only moved back so that his hands were on her shoulders. 

 

Being Jack, he didn’t bother asking if she was alright when she so clearly wasn’t. He just offered her a small smile, which she returned, then nodded into the house. “Drink?”

 

Phryne nodded, and let Jack help her off with her furs and direct her into his parlour. Within minutes she was curled up in one of his armchairs in front of the fire, a glass of whiskey in her hand. Jack sat in the other chair with his own drink. The piano music was still playing from a gramophone in the corner. 

 

“How is your aunt?” Jack asked softly after a few moments. 

 

Phryne sighed. “Putting on a brave face,” she said. “She’s devastated, but trying not to show it, even to me.” 

 

Jack nodded, and took a sip of his whiskey. “It must have been a shock for her. For all of you.” 

 

“Arthur was always… he always had a weak heart,” Phryne said. “Still… I didn’t realise it could be quite so… unexpected.” 

 

“Jane must be sad to be missing the funeral,” Jack said. 

 

Phryne nodded sadly. “She is,” she said. “She adored Arthur.” 

 

The mention of Jane left Phryne once more confronting the other reality of Arthur’s loss, one that made her feel selfish to even think about. Jack though… he wouldn’t think she was selfish. 

 

“Janey adored him too, and he her,” she said, staring into the fire. “We were inseparable when we were children and losing him… it feels like losing another piece of her.” 

 

Jack was silent, and after a few moments Phryne tore her eyes away from the fire to look at him. He was watching her, his face full of sympathetic understanding. 

 

“What was he like back then?” 

 

Phryne shrugged. “Rather a lot like he is - was… _ was _ as an adult,” she said. “Kind. Trusting. Loving. Full of imagination but unable to... He loved stories. I think he was full of stories, but he couldn’t tell them the way he wanted. Janey loved stories too. They would spend hours playing them out - Janey would be the narrator, driving them forward, but Arthur always seemed to know what came next as well.” 

 

Jack was smiling, and Phryne found herself smiling back. “We went to the pictures once, the three of us. We snuck in - they loved it so much. Seeing a story on the screen like that. We started talking about going to America, to visit Hollywood and see how they made films. I always knew it was a pipedream, especially for Arthur, but… it was a nice dream.” 

 

Phryne swirled the whiskey in her glass. 

 

“Did you ever go?” 

 

Phryne looked up. “To Hollywood?” 

 

Jack shrugged. “To Hollywood. To anywhere in America.” 

 

“No,” Phryne admitted. “No, I - I was going to go after the war, but… I stayed in Paris instead.” 

 

She didn’t elaborate further, but she knew she didn’t need to. Jack knew enough about her relationship with Rene to be able to fill in the blanks. It had taken her some time to get past her experiences in Paris, and though she’d travelled to many parts of the world and enjoyed her travels immensely, she’d not felt the urge to travel to America again. Somehow, it felt too closely tied to Janey, and now to Arthur as well. Now, with the loss of both of them so raw within her, it was hard to imagine wanting to make the journey. 

 

She shook herself slightly and looked over at Jack again. “Did you ever want to go to America?” 

 

“I don’t think I’m cut out for Hollywood,” Jack said with a smile. 

 

Phryne smirked. “I don’t know, I can certainly picture you in your Stetson and chaps, lassoing the villain and riding off into the sunset,” she said teasingly.

 

Jack chuckled. “Horses hate me.” 

 

Phryne laughed. “Well this sounds like a story I’d like to hear.” 

 

Jack spent the next hour telling Phryne stories of his own childhood visits to his cousin’s farm, and how her three horses had taken an instant dislike to him for some reason. This led into tales of his various run-ins with horses and other beasts of burden in his adult life, and a story about his friend’s wedding that had Phryne clutching her side as she laughed. 

 

She’d never laughed with Jack like this before. Their conversations were usually… not  _ serious _ exactly, but certainly charged, either because they were discussing murder or because there was a flirtatious edge to every word they were saying. Even though she’d showed up on his doorstep late at night Phryne knew that Jack didn’t see this as an opportunity to flirt with her, and in a way it was rather freeing. She often caught herself thinking of her interactions with Jack as moves in a game, and she loved it, but it was nice to know that that wasn’t the sum total of their relationship - that she could have this too, the simple comfort of a friend. 

 

Phryne nursed the one drink for a long time, and when it was finished Jack walked her back to the door. 

 

“Will you be alright driving home?” 

 

Phryne smiled as he helped her into her fur wrap. “I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “Really, I’m feeling much better.” She stepped forward and placed a lingering kiss on Jack’s cheek. 

 

“Thank you, Jack.” 

 

***

_ Six months later _ \-  _ London, England.  _

 

Jack woke up slowly, the deep softness of the mattress pulling his body down into the bed. He rolled onto his side, reaching out for Phryne, but felt nothing but cool sheets. This was unusual enough to bring him to full consciousness immediately, and he lifted his head from the pillow, peering groggily around the room. 

 

It was dark enough to still be early, but there was enough light coming through the gap in the curtains that he could make out Phryne’s figure on the other side of the bedroom. She was curled up on the chaise, face turned to the light. 

 

Jack frowned and climbed out of the bed. His dressing gown was hanging on the back of the door and he pulled it on before padding across the room to her. He knew that Phryne could hear him coming - though she didn’t look at him she uncurled slightly, and when he sat down next to her she immediately leant back against his chest with a sigh. Jack wrapped his arms around her and held her close, nuzzling his nose into her hair and waiting for her to speak. 

 

After a minute or so she spoke. “It’s Arthur’s birthday today,” she said quietly.

 

Jack tightened his hold on her, and Phryne reached up and linked her fingers with his. She didn’t say anything else, and she didn’t need to. He remembered the night of Arthur’s funeral all too well, and how distraught she’d been then - at the time he’d only been thinking about comforting her, and it wasn’t until after she’d left that he’d fully appreciated just how vulnerable she’d allowed herself to be with him, or think about what that meant. He knew what it meant now, and he would forever be awed by the fact that she trusted him enough to let her guard down around him even before they’d admitted their feelings. 

 

They sat like that for a while, just watching the light shifting across the floor as the sun rose higher. Eventually, Phryne turned in his arms, burrowing her face into his shoulder and wrapping her arms around him. Jack rested his cheek on top of her head and held on.  

 

“I’ve been thinking about our journey home,” he said eventually.

 

“Oh?”

 

“I was thinking, since we’re sailing anyway, what’s to stop us going in the other direction?”

 

Phryne lifted her head to frown at him. “The other direction?”

 

“Instead of going home via Europe and Asia, we could go home… via America.” 

 

Phryne stared at him. 

 

“I understand if you don’t want to,” he said, tucking her hair back behind her ear and stroking his thumb over the curve of it. “But if there was anyone I would want to explore America with, it’s you.” 

 

Phryne’s face was unreadable, and Jack did wonder if he’d made a mistake. He was sure Phryne wouldn’t be angry with him, but he hoped he hadn’t caused her any pain. After a moment, though, she started to smile. 

 

“Where would we go?” She asked softly. 

 

“Well, we could sail to New York,” Jack said, smiling back. “Be welcomed to America by Lady Liberty herself.” 

 

Phryne narrowed her eyes playfully. “Stop trying to make me jealous, Jack.” 

 

Jack snorted. “Then perhaps Chicago - I wouldn’t want to deprive you of the chance to drag me to some illegal drinking establishments.”

 

Phryne grinned. “Well I wouldn’t want to make you go all that time without a drink…”

 

“So kind,” quipped Jack. “We’d make our way to Hollywood, following wherever the wind takes us -”

 

“Will it blow us onto the ranches of Idaho and Utah?” 

 

Jack smirked. “If you have anything to do with it, yes.” 

 

Phryne reached up and trailed her fingers through his hair. “I do think you’d look divine in a Stetson,” she said. 

 

“And I think Stetson or no Stetson, you’re not getting me on a horse.” 

 

Phryne laughed and rested her forehead against his, tucking her nose into his cheek and pressing her smile against his own. They stayed that way for a moment, before Phryne gave him a slow, sweet kiss and pulled away. 

 

“So what do you think?” Jack asked her, squeezing her waist. 

 

Phryne smiled, her eyes suddenly bright. “I’ve been avoiding even the thought of visiting America,” she said, “because I’ve felt all this time that I was supposed to go there with my family.” 

 

Jack nodded, and opened his mouth to tell her that he understood, but Phryne wasn’t done. 

 

“But now I have you, my new family, and I want nothing more than to explore America with you.” 

 

Jack swallowed. Hard. “I love you,” he said, his voice suddenly rough. 

 

Phryne leant forward to kiss him again. “I love you,” she said. Jack went in for another kiss, but Phryne leant back and then jumped to her feet. 

 

“Come on, we have a lot to plan,” she said, tugging on his hand. “After all, we only have four months before we have to be home, and we have a lot to fit in before then!” 

  
  
  
  



End file.
